Stones to Sand
by Sad Mudokon
Summary: When one who works at the kings right hand is struck low by sickness, would he who rules sit idly by, waiting... or try to lend a sympathetic hand? Part of Ivy's fic pairing contest. Disgustingly fluffy Dedede/Escargoon. Teh fluff.


Escargoon could only moan gently, wretchedly, a thick sound in his throat. It was a virus, doc had said, so he could only ride it out. He waited, in his room, drenched with sweat that made the covers cling to him with a fierce and ingratiating determination as his flesh burned incessantly, bringing an almost orange glow to his normally cool violet face. He was thrashing weakly, but the covers wouldn't let him go... no, no, he didn't like it! Something was holding him! In a brief struggle of delusional misery, Escargoon opened his mouth, keening faintly into the chilly air as he tried to fight the blankets unbearable, unbreakable binding. He hadn't cried in years and years... but it was funny what a raging fever and a weakened immune system could do... He coughed, disgusted mutely by the wet, fluttering sound of it and reached once more for the water he had beside the nightstand... a hand, grasping and shaking weakly as it wove towards the glass passed it, brushed it... and knocked it over, flooding several pieces of paper and blue hued schematics. Escargoon stared at the mess with sad, rheumy eyes, weeping miserably into his hand. Dedede had let him get the day off when he had come in, gooey eyed and coughing. He had sighted it as not wanting to get sick himself, so he had sent his assistant to rest up in his room. A Waddle Dee had plumbed him with orange juice and broth before he had lost it to a heaving stomach. The poor sympathetic creature had cleaned the mess, leaving him with a water glass that he had refilled every day. Normally Escargoon would have been dancing with the need to use the bathroom from all the water, but he seemed to be losing it all through sheer sweat. And now tears, he reflected bitterly, his sobs harsh and shaking in his throat, wracking his ribcage with sharp, tremulous pains. It wasn't long until his breathy sobs turned to thick croaks. The Dee hadn't shown up for hours now... it had probably drifted off... he needed water... oh spirits he needed water... Licking at filmy lips, he curled up in his bed, trying to fight his thirst, misery and the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears... He didn't hear him come in, but then he was there, the bed groaning beneath him and his hands, wonderfully cool and gloveless slid over Escargoon's bare chest, gently feeling the fire below the soft, smooth skin he loved so. Escargoon turned blindly at first, staring up at the descending shadow... before his eyes were covered- not by a hand, but by a cool washcloth, gently dabbing the back of his eyestalks before caressing the back of his head and cheeks carefully... a small plastic ring was pressed to his lips and he drank greedily, weakly, Dedede gently stroking his throat as he leaked the water into his mouth, letting him lick at it a bit... not to fast... didn't want his assistant to choke, to cough it up and possibly throw up because of it. No... he gently trickled the liquid into Goonie's mouth, his eyes half lidded, expression soft as he nodded, smiling to himself and gently rubbing the sweat slick, burning shoulders and neck. Escargoon lay in the bed, crying softly from the misery of the illness now plundering his body. His flesh burned, but he was shaking like a leaf, chilled to the bone despite the five blankets he had dragged out of the closet before he had gotten too critical. Dedede's finger feathers stood out in odd spikes from the salty liquid, and he dried them unabashedly on his robes. He tried to pull the blankets away, wanting to tear free the sheet beneath, now soaked dark and wet with his sweat... but Escargoon squealed, fighting weakly to preserve the tangle of sheets, feeling frozen inside and now delirious again from the rampant virus within him. ...But the room bloomed with heat, rough as unshod mustang hooves... it eminated from somewhere, where Escargoon couldn't guess... but it became clear where, as the three Waddle Dees, each gingerly carrying a large woven basket packed with some sort of plastic insulation blanket... and inside... river stones, each having sat long in a fire till they nearly glowed and wrapped with the thin cloth, each radiated heat like a small furnace, but were smooth, small, and smelled faintly of lilacs. Escargoon could only moan miserably, feeling the smoothness against his back as Dedede slid a wrapped stone into the bed beside him... soon, as he slid more and more stones, unabashed against brushes against Escargoon's skin as he worked, he soon had him surrounded, the heat a centralized blush on the air. And, as Dedede deftly rolled the blankets off him, ripping free the cold and clammy sheet, Escargoon didn't notice, seeming half dosing from the flush of warmth around him. As the fresh, new linen slid around him, a gentle whisper on his body, he could only cry in relief and thanks... He sweated long that night. It had become unbearably hot as time went on and the rocks were replaced by heated bricks, more and more as he loaded down the bed... bricks, blanket, bricks, blanket. Escargoon was bathed in sweat, keening miserably as the hours slid past, minutes of steamy torture seeming to bleed one into the other... Dedede was silent, his face hard to read but he was frowning a little, expression sad but determined. And as Escargoon writhed and shifted wildly beneath the weighted sheets, he raved faintly, voice almost indecipherable. Dedede, to his credit, tried not to listen, looking away and thinking of different things as he tried to ignore the fevered whimpers... "...m-mommy... I want my mommy..." He could only rub Escargoon's shoulder, hating himself but knowing this was the only way to break the fever, or Escargoon could fry for a few days and wake up with brain damage... or never woke up. Heat did funny things to a person's brain- but as Escargoon writhed once, nearly rising high enough to balance on his shell, head back and eyes dripping tears, it wasn't his momma that he called for. No, the word that ripped it's way from his throat was "DEDEDE!"  
  
He didn't realize why he did it, but he couldn't help it. Feeling Escargoon weeping beneath him, he kissed him. Full, deep, lovingly, trying to hold the snail to him as Escargoon froze, shaking weakly and crying softly against him. He tentatively returned the kiss, his eyes wet as he opened them, gaze out of focus as he moaned. "I love you Dedede. Dun make me go 'way." Then he was in Dedede's arms, crying softer now, shaking less, sweat running off of him as he stared in the dull open eyed sleep of exhaustion...  
  
- Dedede felt the fever break about an hour later, dropping the now delusional snail into a deep, restless sleep that unconsciousness brings. And Dedede was there. He knew Escargoon wouldn't remember in the morning. He was counting on it. No, Escargoon would be well, and things would be back to normal... But as the sun came through the mist and the window, turning the world to pale shades, he looked over at Escargoon... who was looking at him, his expression unreadable, his body curled faintly, looking pathetically vulnerable from where he lay. He was silent at first... just... staring. Before he could only hide his tears by looking down... "Sire. I'm... so sorry."  
  
Dedede looked up, confused. "Sorry for what Escargoon?" ...he looked like he wanted to say something... but then, he just curled in on himself, responding dully. "For being a burden upon the kingdom and you by contracting this disease." He was about to go on, before a hand found his chin, lifting it. Dedede... looked radiant. It was hard to imagine an overweight, rather pompous penguin such as himself looking anything but dumpy, ridiculous and mean, but he was smiling... and it was such a pure smile. As Escargoon's eyes melted closed and he felt the faint, soft coolness of Dedede's beak against his mouth, a warm, breath stealing kiss, he heard the faint murmur right before sleep claimed him again... "I wouldn'tve come unless I felt the same Goonie..." 


End file.
